


First Day of My Life

by NeverAndAlways



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - John Laurens Lives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childbirth, Divorced Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Gen, M/M, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Past Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Stubborn Hamilton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8855266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/NeverAndAlways
Summary: Hamilton is stubborn as hell. John has learned to live with it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just recently saw Hamilton and am still getting to know the characters, so there might be some OOC-ness, but I'll do my best.

"Alexander?"

John Laurens pads through the house. His husband has been so antsy since labor started, he hasn't known where to find him most of the day. His eldest stepson, Phillip, looks up from the couch and his laptop.

"John? What's up?"

"I'm looking for your father." John sighs, casting a glance around the room just in case. Phillip points.

"He's in the laundry room."

John groans inwardly, thanks Phillip, and takes off again. The laundry room door is open, just as Phillip said, and he can hear rustling inside. He knocks once and pushes the door open.

"Alex...?"

There's his husband, propped up against the dryer with one hand and trying valiantly to put on pants with the other. He glances up at the sound of his name.

"Babe, what are you doing?" John asks gently. He stoops to retrieve a crumpled hoodie.

"Getting dressed, what does it look like?" grumbles Alexander, now fighting with the zipper.

"Well it looks like a losing battle, for one thing." John tosses the hoodie in a basket. "You going somewhere?"

"Going to work. George called; that senator finally agreed to an interview, and I need to be there." Alexander lets out a sigh and drops his arms to his sides. "Fuck it, maybe I can get away with sweatpants..."

John stares. "Babe, I was kidding. You're not actually going, are you?"

"Yeah. Laf's going to pick me up, he's going in too."

"Alex..." John rubs his temples. He's going to get a migraine at this rate. "I don't have to tell you, you're in no condition to travel. Please tell me you're not actually going."

"I'm fine, John." says Alex over his shoulder. "I've done this before." he takes some sweatpants out of the dryer and kicks off the ones he's wearing. They skid away across the linoleum.

"You are in _labor_ , Alex."

"I'm in **early** labor. And yes, I'm actually going. I'm the primary person working on this story, I know the most about it."

"Dad?" Phillip knocks on the door. "Lafayette's here."

"Thanks, Phil. Could you tell him we'll be out in a sec?"

"Sure." he disappears. John turns back to his husband.

"I can't talk you out of this, can I."

"Nope." Alexander says cheerfully. He ties the drawstring on his sweatpants. He's not huge, even at nine months, but they still ride pretty low under his belly.

John starts to protest, but drops it. "Alright, just answer one thing for me: did George ask you to go in, or is this your choice?"

"Nah, it's my choice. George knows better."

 _At least one of you does,_ thinks John. Alexander starts to make his way out of the laundry room, and he falls into step beside him. At the door, Alexander pauses. He blows out a long, slow breath and sways a little.

"Hmmmm." he hums low in his throat. "Just a sec, babe, I..." he doesn't finish the sentence. John stands with him through the contraction, one hand on his husband's back. He gives him a smile when it's over and Alexander stands up straighter.

"You okay?" he asks lightly.

"Fine." Alexander answers a bit too quickly. "Shall we?"

The pair walks out to the living room. They find Phillip standing in the entryway and chatting with Lafayette - who seems to zero in on them immediately.

"Heyy, there he is!" Lafayette strides toward Alexander with his arms open. Alexander is not a large man by any means, even with the belly; he sort of disappears into the hug. " _Félicitations, mon ami!_ You sure you wanna do this?"

"Pretty sure. Let's just go before I change my mind."

Lafayette laughs. It's a sound as big as he is. He claps Phillip on the shoulder as Alexander reaches for his raincoat. "Good to see you again, Phillip."

"Alex." John takes advantage of the distraction. "I need you to promise me something."

"Mm."

"Take it easy, okay? Don't stress yourself out."

"Honey, it's just an interview."

"Just hear me out. If the contractions get to ten minutes, you come home. I don't care if it's in the middle of an interview. As soon as you're done, have Lafayette or someone else bring you home. And keep me posted."

"John-"

"Promise."

Alexander rolls his eyes fondly. "I promise. It shouldn't take long anyway." he steals a kiss.

Lafayette opens the door. A gust of spring air and petrichor blows into the house. It's raining buckets out there.

"Once more unto the breach!" he says jovially, following Alexander outside.

"Take care, you two." Phillip calls after them. Lafayette waves over his shoulder and says something in French that gets lost in the rain.

John closes the door and sighs. At least his life isn't boring.

 

♢♢♢


	2. Chapter 2

Well, here we are. Been waiting on this shoot for six months. It's a joint interview, Burr and Jefferson (actually, it's more like a conference; they're filming a series of interviews that will be aired sequentially). Lafayette's assigned to Burr, and having a hell of a time; the guy's a master at evading questions. You couldn't get a straight answer if you asked him what he wants for lunch.

And then there's Jefferson, who talks just to hear his own voice...thinks he's God's gift to the world. And he makes carrier jokes, too. In front of a pregnant man. Freaking politicians.

Hamilton lets his gaze wander the studio while Laf tries to coax another answer out of Burr. Hercules is on the boom mic; he catches Alexander's eye and signs "20 seconds".

"...but with any luck, we'll be able to resolve that within a few months."

"That's fascinating, Senator, thank you." says Lafayette, smooth as ever. He catches sight of Herc. "Why don't we take a quick break, and we can hear more when we come back."

Burr nods agreement. Herc gives them the countdown; the ON-AIR sign goes dark.

"Alright folks, ten minutes."

The senators get up from their chairs, stretch, and wander away toward the pot of coffee in the corner. Their expensive suits make Alexander feel even more underdressed in his sweatpants and button-up shirt. Thank goodness they're behind a desk, at least.

Alexander gets to his feet. He mutters "Be right back" to no one in particular, then walks off the stage and out of the studio. Time for a break.

His office is quiet and dark. Alexander doesn't bother to turn on the lights before he shuts the door and sits down at his desk. He unbuttons his shirt a little. Lets his head rest on the back of the chair. Lets his reporter persona fall to the wayside. It's becoming harder to pretend he's okay. The contractions are really getting bad. But he can't afford to leave - he's been waiting so long to do this interview, and he's the only one Jefferson will really talk to.

As if to prove his point - as if it needed proving - he feels the band of pressure start to close around his middle. Alexander plants his feet on the floor and grits his teeth and is very thankful that the walls are soundproof.

"Alexander?"

Someone's at the door. He makes a rather weak effort to pull himself together. "Yeah?"

The door opens. It's Lafayette; he makes a rather imposing shape in the doorway. " _Tu vas bien_ , Alex?" he asks.

"Not really." Alexander gives him a small smile.

"That bad, huh?" Lafayette perches on the edge of the desk.

"Getting there."

"Do you need to go home? I can ask Herc to give you a ride, or Angelica."

"No. I gotta get through the interview." Alexander frowns. "Did John put you up to this?"

"No. I'm asking because I have worked with you for ten years, and you're my friend. And I know you can be stubborn." Lafayette smirks.

"I hate you." Alexander deadpans, but only sort of means it.

"I know. But whatever you do, you should decide quickly. Herc will come looking for us soon."

"Yeah..." Alexander buttons up his shirt again. "I'll be there, just gimme a minute. Don't tell Herc where I am."

"Okay. Hang in there, _mon ami_." Lafayette gives his friend a smile and slips away.

-

The hours pass. Lafayette must have had a quiet word with Hercules or the camera crew; they seem to go to commercial more frequently. Good thing, too. It's getting tough to keep it together. Alexander has a stress ball under the table, and he's squeezing the hell out of it with every contraction. Lafayette throws him watchful glances every now and then and tries to keep the conversation on his side.

And somehow, Hamilton's façade holds. He stays composed and calm all the way through the interview, and no one seems to suspect a thing, save for Laf.

"-and that's a wrap! Good job, guys!"

Hamilton staggers to his feet and off the stage. There's a contraction on its way, and he doesn't know if he can hold himself together for this one.

"Laf-" he gasps. He hears Lafayette excuse himself, and footsteps follow him.

"Alex, wait up!"

Back in his office. Alexander leans over his desk just in time. He was right - a pained, animal noise rises out of him with the contraction, and he finds he's unable to stop it. It feels like his body is taking revenge on him.

Lafayette skids into the room in mid-sentence. "- _savais que cela arriverait, pourquoi est-ce que je vous ai laissé me parler dans ce, tu es fou-_ "

"Laf." pants Alexander. "Wrong language, buddy, I can't understand you."

"Sorry. Sorry, I - let's just get you home." Lafayette fishes in his pockets for his keys and cellphone. "I can just imagine what your husband is going to say..."

-

It's still raining. Curled up on the loveseat, John watches it stream in rivulets down the window. There's a small river forming on the sidewalk. He takes a sip of coffee and is very glad to be inside the house, warm and comfy...

...And then his thoughts snap right back to his husband. He checks his phone for the hundredth time; still nothing. That man is going to be the death of him. Where the hell is he? John punches in his husband's number and taps an impatient beat on his coffee cup as it rings.

" _Hey, you've reached Alexander Hamilton. I'm probably busy, so leave your name and number and I'll try and get back to you._ "

Of course he doesn't answer. John sighs inwardly. "Hi, it's me. Um. Haven't heard from you in a while, hope everything's okay. Call me back when you get this. Love you." he hangs up and tosses his phone aside. Goes to take another sip of coffee and finds the cup empty.

It occurs to him, as he's shuffling into the kitchen, that the wall is pounding a bit. He takes a detour to Phillip's room.

"Phil? Turn your music down, please, the neighbors don't need to hear it."

A moment of grudging silence. The music turns down a few notches.

"Thank you."

Then another sound makes itself known. It's not Phillip's music, and it's not the rain, so what-?

Cellphone. Damn!

John sprints back into the living room. "Hang on, hang on, wait a sec-" he picks up the phone right at the last ring, fumbles, nearly drops it - "Hello??"

"John?"

John sits down heavily on the couch. "You know, I'd be pissed at you if I weren't so glad to hear your voice." he hears road noise on the other end, and Lafayette's boisterous laugh. Must be on speakerphone. "Please tell me you're coming home."

"Yeah, we're on our way." car upholstery creaks. "Baby's in a hurry...barely made it through the interview."

"Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"You're an idiot. And I mean that in the best possible way."

"I know."

"D'you need to go to the hospital, or do you wanna just come home?" a long pause filled with road noise answers him. "Babe...?"

"Home." Alex chokes out the word. "Home's closer. Don't know if I can make it to the hospital."

John swears he can feel his blood pressure spike. He swallows hard. "Okay. Alright, just hold on. I'll start getting things ready."

"Okay." Alexander's voice is thin.

"I love you, Alex."

"Love you too."

John has to take a moment to pull himself together. All their preparations are going right out the window. They'd planned to do this all by themselves, calm and quiet...of course it isn't working out that way. But how can you really hope to plan something like this? His heart is going a mile a minute. They've been trying for so long, and now it's really happening. He's going to be a dad. Not just a stepdad, but a _dad._

Damn.

 

♢♢♢

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Alex...? Alexander?"

Alexander lets out a rough-edged groan and presses his head back into the headrest. "What?"

" _Tu va bien_?"

"Do I _look_ okay to you?"

"Sorry."

"Just...fucking drive."

" _Je fais de mon mieux._ "

Somewhere, in the part of Alexander's mind that isn't _painviceclamppressure_ , he notes that Laf must be stressing out, too: every other sentence is coming out French. Last time he got like that, they were pulling an all-nighter to write an article for - oh fuck, here comes another one.

Alexander leans forward into the wave as it comes. A sound escapes him, a long, low syllable, and he keeps it going until he runs out of breath. Fuck. It wasn't like this with Phillip, and certainly not with J.C. J.C. was born within five hours of the first contractions; this is hour ten. He's gonna lose his damn mind if it goes on much longer.

He sits back as the contraction ends, letting his head fall back against the seat. Just enough time to rest before the next one.

Lafayette casts him a glance, and drives a little faster.

-

Call the doula. Check the homebirth kit. Boil water. Double-check the homebirth kit. Get their room ready. Triple-check the homebirth kit. John is so focused on preparations that he doesn't hear the doorbell ring.

He does, however, hear Lafayette's voice.

"Hello? Anybody home?"

John sprints to the door. When he opens it, Alexander half-shuffles, half-falls across the threshold.

"Easy, I gotcha." John props him up. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah."

Lafayette hovers behind him. "Can I be of help?"

"I think we're alright. But thank you so much for looking after him, Laf."

Lafayette smiles, and nods respectfully. " _Bonne chance_."

Alexander sets off toward the bedroom as soon as the door closes, unbuttoning his shirt as he goes. John trots to catch up.

"Y'know, I don't know whether to kiss you, or slap you upside the head for this." he smirks.

"Later." says Alexander distractedly. He wriggles out of his shirt and sits down on the bed. His belly is lower now, more compact. "Did you call Mary?"

"Yep. She said to just keep her appraised. How far apart are the contractions?"

"I dunno, I lost track. Somewhere around five minutes." Alexander studies his husband's face. "...You're mad, aren't you."

John sits down next to him. "Kinda. I mean, Alex, you _knew-_ "

"And I didn't have much of a choice. I've already waited six months for this stupid interview; if I didn't do it today, I would've had to wait god knows how long for another chance."

"Alright, alright." John raises his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm sorry."

"Like I said: later." Alexander leans back, putting his weight on his palms, and hums deeply. Now that he's home, he doesn't have to pretend he's okay. He lets his body take over and it's almost a relief until another wave hits. It's worse than the last one.

"Alex. Breathe."

He finds himself leaning forward now, grasping the edge of the bed. His hands are shaking. John tucks his hair back away from his face.

"You okay?"

"Hurts..." he croaks. "this is a disaster. Babe, I'm sorry-"

"It's not a disaster. It's a bit less than ideal, but we'll make it work." John leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, so they're more or less eye-to-eye. "You've done this before; I haven't. You call the shots. Do whatever you need to."

Alexander looks at him askance. "How come you're always the optimist?"

"'Cause you aren't."

He snorts with amusement. _I knew there was a reason I married you,_ he thinks wryly. But sitting like this is building the pressure in his back, so he stands up and begins a slow circuit of the room. His husband watches from the bed.

Here goes nothing.

-

After his water breaks, Alexander moves from the bedroom into the bathroom. The tub is just the right height to lean on, and the cool enamel is grounding. He's squatting beside it, with his back to the edge, swaying gently. The sweatpants are gone, and he's put on a tanktop instead.

His husband comes in, tying his hair into a bun. Alexander doesn't look up. John kneels in front of him with a washcloth from the counter.

"Hey." more of a breath than a word. He runs the washcloth over Alexander's forehead. Alexander grunts acknowledgement. "You still doing okay? You need anything?"

Alexander shakes his head. He's not himself. His breathing is shallow, his eyes distant. He lets himself fall forward into John's arms and tucks his head into the crook of John's neck. John feels him tense up moments later; he rubs circles into his husband's sides, his shoulders, wherever he can reach. One or two breaths is all Alexander's able to get until the contraction ends. Then, panting, he lets one arm fall from around John's neck.

"Gonna need to push soon." he mutters.

Adrenaline runs cold up John's back. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just...stay here. You'll know." Alexander huffs another breath and widens his stance.

All John can do is nod. He knows this is Alexander's fight, but watching it happen is so much harder than he thought it would be. Alexander's done this before, though, he reminds himself. Twice.

 _Remember what Mary told you: let him take the lead. His body knows what to do_.

Another wave hits. Alexander presses even closer and hisses through clenched teeth. He's shaking so hard. John reaches down with one broad hand and tries to massage some of the tension away. When Alexander comes back to himself he reaches down between his legs, grimacing slightly. He doesn't say a word.

Now he pulls back. His hands move to John's shoulders and he braces his forehead on John's collarbone. For a moment he just rocks and breathes. Then, as though he's reached a decision, he arches his back and angles his hips down with a guttural grunt.

"Alex?"

He nods, takes a shallow breath and pushes again. Another shot of adrenaline runs up and down John's back. He places his hands on Alexander's knees, holding him open. Alexander leans into the touch.

His focus narrows. He seems to have forgotten that John is there, or that he even exists. That, at least, is familiar. This is the guy who forgets to eat when he's working on articles. He pushes in relative silence for a few contractions; the only sound is the occasional moan or soft hiss.

Then his veneer starts to crack. He lets out a whine. His hand drops back between his legs and as he pushes again, the whine darkens into a groan. He tries to say John's name, but only gets as far as the first syllable.

"I'm right here. You're okay." John finds his voice a little wobbly. His hand moves down to join Alexander's and finds the top of the baby's skull just crowning. His heart trips over itself.

The next contraction slams into Alexander with a force none of the previous ones had. The baby's head presses forward into their hands. Alexander leans all his weight onto John, his world narrowing to just a sliver of focus, and lets out a harsh cry. The head slides back as the contraction ends.

"Keep going, you've almost got it." John coaches. "Keep pushing."

Alexander growls low in his throat, a sound that pretty plainly says 'fuck off', but gathers his strength all the same. And this time, at the peak of the contraction, the head crowns fully and almost slips free. He whines disappointment when it slides back yet again.

"Again. One more just like that, you can do it."

Another growl. He doubles down and pushes even harder and suddenly, there it is. John laughs with surprise.

"Head's out, you're almost there. I'm so proud of you, Alex." his voice is definitely shaking now. He lights a single kiss on his husband's cheek. "You're so amazing."

John feels him smile. Then, using whatever strength he has left, Alexander grits his teeth and bears down hard. The shoulders rotate slowly as they emerge, shifting into position. He takes a deep breath and pushes again - and then the baby slips into their hands. He lets out a cry of relief. John's breath hitches in his throat.

"Alex - Alex, oh my god-" John thinks he may never stop grinning. He lifts the baby up between them - it's so _tiny_ , one hand covers its whole back - and reaches blindly for a towel. The baby lets out more of a shout than a cry. "It's a girl."

Alexander slides to the floor. His eyes are a little glazed with exhaustion, but he's grinning too. "Hold her to your chest," he says, "keep her warm."

John does as he's told. He pulls off his shirt one-handed, tosses it aside, then snuggles the baby in close. The volume goes down a bit, but she's not ready to stop crying just yet. He looks up at Alexander. There's so much emotion written on his husband's face.

"You wanna hold her?"

Alexander shakes his head. "In a minute." he's drinking in the sight of John and the baby as though he'll never get enough of it.

And John doesn't argue. He turns back to the baby. She's decided that being warm is okay after all and has toned down her crying. "Hi, sweetie." John whispers to her. "You sure didn't waste much time getting here...we're gonna have our hands full with you, aren't we? You're gonna keep me and your Papa and brothers busy." and that's all he's able to say before his voice starts to wobble again. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and looks over at Alexander. "Alex-"

Alexander takes the hint and shuffles closer. The baby is handed off, and then they just sit. For them, time has stopped. Nothing outside this room exists. They cut the cord; Alexander gives her her first meal.

And John is lost. Head-over-heels, ass-over-teakettle. For both of them. He loves J.C. and Phillip, he really does. But Phillip turns 17 next month, and J.C. is 14. They're their own people. This adventure belongs to him and Alexander alone.

And he can hardly wait.

 

♢♢♢ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's an epilogue coming up, but I'm gonna need your help, guys: what should the baby's name be? Leave your ideas in the comments :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The French words and phrases in this fic come from a dictionary and google translate; please feel free to tell me if I've gotten them wrong!
> 
> (And thanks to I_Am_Inimitable for the name suggestion!)

"'Unprofessional', seriously?"

"Mm. I heard he wants to re-shoot part of the interview."

"He does realize I was in labor?"

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. I'm only telling you what I heard."

Alexander scoffs and looks out the window. It's been three weeks already. Thanks, Jefferson, way to be insensitive.

Lafayette turns onto a neighborhood street. "Anyway, I think you did well. Under the circumstances."

"Thanks..." Alexander shakes his head with a wry smile. "Y'know, I _hate_ Jefferson."

His friend laughs. "You don't mince words much, do you, _mon ami_."

"Oh, I mince words just fine. I'm just telling the truth."

Lafayette turns again, into a driveway. " _Nous sommes ici_." he cuts the engine and turns to Alexander. "Not to impose, but may I come in for a moment? I have something for you and John."

"Yeah, sure. C'mon." Alexander beckons as he gets out of the car. Lafayette grabs a cardboard box from the backseat and follows. "You haven't met the baby yet, have you?" Alexander continues. He grins when Lafayette shakes his head. "Oh, well you _have_ to come in, then."

The house is blue-gray and unassuming, crouched between its neighbors. A fir tree stands in the yard, unconcerned by the strands of ivy doing their best to choke it. Alexander unlocks and opens the door.

"Hello?" he stage-whispers once they're inside. Can't be too careful with a newborn in the house.

"One sec." Laurens' voice drifts out from the bedroom.

Alexander beckons his friend into the living room to wait. Soon after, John emerges with the baby in his arms.

"Lafayette, hi!" he smiles at the sight of him. Lafayette nods in greeting. "What's up?"

"I wanted to introduce him to the kiddo. May I?" Alexander holds out his hands to John. John passes the baby to him; all of his attention immediately goes to her. She stares up at him with that unfocused, slightly perplexed look of babies everywhere. "Hey, there you are." he murmurs to her. "How's my best girl? Did you have a good day with your dad?"

"I dunno, she was only awake for maybe a third of it." his husband shrugs.

"Sounds like a good day to me." Alexander turns to Lafayette. "So, you ready to meet her?"

"Of course." Lafayette smiles. He deposits his cardboard box on the counter and quickly washes his hands at the sink. He's a father too, he knows the drill. Then he comes back, already holding his arms out. Alexander is practically glowing with parental pride as he hands her over.

"Laf, I'd like you to meet Charlotte Constancia Hamilton." he grins.

"Charlotte," his friend echoes the name. He sits down on the couch, positioning her so that her head is in his hand and the rest of her is supported on his arm. This puts them more or less face-to-face; she looks at him with astonishment. He flashes a wide, toothy smile in response. "Nice to meet you, _petite souris_. I'm Lafayette; your papa's friend. You'll probably see me around quite a bit." he throws John a glance. "I see she's taken some of your freckles already."

John smiles a little shyly. "There's enough to go around."

"Indeed." he turns back to the baby and drops his voice just a little. " _Tu sais, votre famille vous aime beaucoup, mademoiselle Charlotte_."

Alexander perches on the arm of the sofa. "What are you saying to her?" he asks, feigning suspicion.

"Your darkest secrets." Lafayette waggles his eyebrows theatrically. Then he waves his free hand. "Nothing bad. Just baby nonsense."

"Hey, Laf?" John has wandered into the kitchen and is trying to look inconspicuous about inspecting the cardboard box. "Can I ask what's in here? It smells really good."

"Go ahead and open it, it's for both of you."

John does as he's told, and comes back with...a large mason jar.

"Vegetable soup," Lafayette explains. "I did warn you, we would do this at least once after the baby arrived."

"That's sweet of you, Laf, thanks." Alexander smiles.

"There are chocolate chip cookies, too."

"Ooh. We might have to hide those from the boys." says John.

"Speaking of whom, it's awfully quiet. Are they at home?"

"J.C's on a field trip. Phil is at his friend's house." Alexander replies.

"Mm. And what do they think of the little one?"

"Phil's not too sure," says Alexander as he puts the cookies on top of the fridge. "he really doesn't remember when J.C. was tiny, so this is pretty new to him."

"And J.C.?"

John chimes in. "J.C. adores her. They both met her when she was about two hours old and ever since then, he's always asking to hold her and help take care of her." he looks about as proud as a dad can be.

"Mm. He's no longer the baby of the family."

"Yep."

Charlotte gurgles something in baby-language. The sound immediately grabs Lafayette's attention; he makes a few faces at her. When he looks back at his friends, they're watching him with both amusement and fondness. He blushes a little.

Lafayette stands and offers Charlotte back to her parents. " _Elle est chérie_." he says as John tucks the baby against his shoulder.

John nods agreement. In the kitchen, the landline comes to life and rings piercingly.

"I got it." Alexander grabs the phone. It's Eliza on the other end; he excuses himself and hurries into the other room to talk to her. John and Lafayette watch him go. When the door closes, Lafayette turns to John.

"You know, he almost didn't make it home." he says contemplatively, as if to no one in particular. John arches an eyebrow.

"What, today?"

"When he had her." Laf nods to Charlotte. "He almost delivered at the station instead of here."

John whistles in disbelief. "Contractions were pretty close when he got here, but he didn't tell me that...shit, Alex. What happened?"

"Well, first he didn't want to leave. Then he almost couldn't. I admire his dedication to his assignment, but he doesn't even like Jefferson...I was this close to calling you and-"

"Sorry 'bout that. Scheduling mix-up with Eliza." Alexander reappears by his husband's side. Without missing a beat, John reaches over and gently whacks him on the shoulder with his free hand.

Alexander looks bemused. "What?"

"You are one stubborn son of a bitch." says John, only half-joking.

"Well, yeah. But what did I do?"

"I hear you almost had Charlotte at the station, 'cause you were so intent on meeting with Jefferson."

Alexander looks at his friend. "You told him??"

Lafayette shrugs. He's completely unapologetic. "He was going to find out sometime."

"You jerk. This is why I don't tell you secrets." Alex mock-scolds. His friend laughs.

"And yet you keep me around."

Startled by the sudden laughter, Charlotte begins to fuss. It's threatening to turn into a full-on cry, so Laf makes his way to the door. "I believe that's my cue. Adrienne's expecting me anyway."

They trio says their goodbyes, and Lafayette makes his departure, leaving the couple alone with their baby. John manages to sooth her, and she falls quiet. Silence descends.

With lives like theirs - Alexander always at the news station and John going back to school, not to mention J.C. and Phillip - time alone together isn't something they get very often. It feels like a privelege. And as the afternoon goes on and turns into evening, the quiet continues. But it's a peaceful quiet. The boys will be home soon, bringing all kinds of teenage noise with them, but for now - 

For now, this is what's important.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment - I'd love to hear from you!


End file.
